For My Father - A Collection of Poems
I wrote these poems after the death of my father in 1982. It was the first close family death I had experienced and though both my father and I were Christians, I was devastated. For three months afterwards I played Mozart’s Requiem. Mozart wrote this tremendous work in six weeks before his own death. It was just as well we lived in a house with a large garden, because I played it full blast…
After that, I picked up my pen and wrote FOR MY FATHER. I sent it to a publisher who liked it but said it “was too personal”. So although I disagreed with him because I felt the poems have a wide application, they lay forgotten at the bottom of a pile in my study until one of my sisters reminded me and I dug it out.
I pray our Lord who inspires all my writing, uses it for his glory. Below is the file for download, and below that a sample of two of the poems in the 26 poem collection.
After that, I picked up my pen and wrote FOR MY FATHER. I sent it to a publisher who liked it but said it “was too personal”. So although I disagreed with him because I felt the poems have a wide application, they lay forgotten at the bottom of a pile in my study until one of my sisters reminded me and I dug it out.
I pray our Lord who inspires all my writing, uses it for his glory. Below is the file for download, and below that a sample of two of the poems in the 26 poem collection.
| for_my_father.pdf |
Two poems from FOR MY FATHER: "Two Springs" and "The Full Quiver"
TWO SPRINGS
two springs are given
with a summer
and a winter
in between
not all summers are green
nor winters sear
yet each year
we chose
what we shall plant
our gardens are our care
and every test we lose
fells fragile flowers
from the second spring
dad’s barometer
was read in the
sunlight of your word
he did not water weeds
when he chose seeds
he sowed the best
so summer’s storms
and winter’s winds
were weathered
and the second spring
long looked for
has come
blossoming
bright
for ever
THE FULL QUIVER
he was a large man
and rather ungainly
when he danced
ring-a-ring-of-roses
on the lawn
or stood on his head
for his prancing grandchildren
I remember laughter
when he was around
country drives
tea and cream cakes
playing in the pool
he used to say
there were two of us
now there are seventeen
and it reached twenty-two recently
with the great-grandchildren
he was so happy
he was coming
to see us all
and the new three
one of his
favourite verses was
happy is the man
whose quiver is full
and his was
and he was happy
two springs are given
with a summer
and a winter
in between
not all summers are green
nor winters sear
yet each year
we chose
what we shall plant
our gardens are our care
and every test we lose
fells fragile flowers
from the second spring
dad’s barometer
was read in the
sunlight of your word
he did not water weeds
when he chose seeds
he sowed the best
so summer’s storms
and winter’s winds
were weathered
and the second spring
long looked for
has come
blossoming
bright
for ever
THE FULL QUIVER
he was a large man
and rather ungainly
when he danced
ring-a-ring-of-roses
on the lawn
or stood on his head
for his prancing grandchildren
I remember laughter
when he was around
country drives
tea and cream cakes
playing in the pool
he used to say
there were two of us
now there are seventeen
and it reached twenty-two recently
with the great-grandchildren
he was so happy
he was coming
to see us all
and the new three
one of his
favourite verses was
happy is the man
whose quiver is full
and his was
and he was happy